


On the Steppes

by keita52



Category: Under Heaven - Guy Gavriel Kay
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Polyamory, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keita52/pseuds/keita52
Summary: Years later, Li-Mei returns to the Bogü and sees Meshag again.





	On the Steppes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yellowtaffeta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowtaffeta/gifts).



Shen Li-Mei had once feared that she would never feel these sensations again. The wind whipping across her hair, the clear blue sky above, the sun hitting her bare face. For most of her life, these had been things that belonged to her brothers, things she had never wanted.

Then came the Bogü. And Meshag. And suddenly these were things that symbolized the person she had become, more than just the daughter of the famed general Shen Gao. More than just the sister of First Minister Wen Zhou’s protege. More than just another lady at court.

The Bogü. And Meshag. They are why she rides now, on the back of one of the Heavenly Horses procured for the Empire of Kitai by her brother, Shen Tai. Unusual, for an emperor to send one of his wives to negotiate a treaty. But Emperor Shinzu is not in a usual position for an emperor. He inherited from his father, true -- but after his father’s abdication, and not his death. He inherited an empire broken by civil war, a capital ravaged and uninhabitable. His is not the stable empire of Li-Mei’s childhood.

Hers, too. She has to remember that. She can accurately call the Empire of Kitai hers, as one of Emperor Shinzu’s wives. She married Shinzu knowing that hers would not be a marriage like Tai and Song’s, one man and one woman, living together with their mothers and brother on the Shen estate. That life could never be hers. Not after everything she went through.

Instead, her life is one of solitude and society, quiet moments mixed with the bustling chaos of court. It is both restricting and freeing. Because of who she is, who her brother is, there is very little that Shinzu denies to her. Within reason.

And because of who she is, Shinzu has sent her north.

Li-Mei looks over at her escort. Men from the Second Military District, with some connection to her brother. She is not clear on that part. She will never ask, not when they look at her like she already knows. There are only ten of them. A small party can move much faster than a large one. Shinzu did not insist that she take female attendants, for which she is grateful. And because she is an Empress, the men would sooner cut off their left hand than touch her in an untoward manner. She feels safe with these men. She knows that safety is an illusion that could be shattered at any moment. These things are not mutually exclusive.

The sun is bright overhead, with many long hours yet until they take their mid-day stop. The captain of her escort says they should arrive by nightfall. Li-Mei’s memories of the distance between Kitai and the Bogü are untrustworthy, given how she and Meshag traveled, years ago.

Meshag. Those memories are fresh, still; the look on his face when he bade her goodbye; the way she felt when she left Stone Drum Mountain without him. The way the wolves followed him. The way she felt safe with the wolves, as no Kitan ever had before.

She cannot think about Meshag. She has a duty placed on her by her royal husband. That comes first. Ever since she married him, Shinzu has come first. She remembers the cloudy afternoon he came to visit her and lay this task upon her, an environment in contrast to the one she now rides through.

* * *

She was in her sitting room with her attendants, when word came that the Emperor desired to speak with his wife. Li-Mei let him in, of course. Their years of marriage have led them to understanding each other well. Li-Mei knows she might be deluding herself to think that Shinzu seeks her out, of all his wives and concubines, to be himself -- something like the man he used to be, before everything changed in Kitai.

So she rose to greet him, a smile on her face, as her attendants hastily excused themselves. He took her hands in his. Returned her smile. “I hope you are well, my wife.”

“I am well, my husband.” They moved to sit down on her couch, legs touching. He reclaimed her hand. Cleared his throat.

“I have something to ask of you, Li-Mei. A task that needs doing.”

“You wish my advice on who to select for this task?”

Shinzu shook his head. “No. I have already decided. It is you.”

Li-Mei’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

“There has been trouble in the North. Rumors of a plot against the kaghan.” Shinzu’s lips curled in distaste. “Kitai cannot afford a change in leadership among the Bogü. Not with everything else going on. I must do something to support the kaghan.”

He knows about her connection to the kaghan. What happened with her and Meshag, up to and including that final kiss on Stone Drum Mountain. She told him, before they were married. It felt like a foolish impulse, for a girl who sought to become Empress. Do not tell the Emperor that you are half in love with a crippled Bogü with a connection to wolves. Kitans are uneasy around the Bogü. Kitans are uneasy around wolves. She knows that her brother would have been scandalized to know that she told Shinzu that story.

Shinzu had accepted her story. Accepted her, and in some ways that was better than being in love. Marriage offered stability and power, for her, the chance to do and see more than she might have otherwise. She knew that he gained additional status, having her as a wife -- the Imperial Princess who had been to the Bogü and back, the daughter of the famed General Shen Gao, the sister of the man whose horses had allowed Shinzu to stop the An Li rebellion. Most days, what they had together … was enough. Other days, she dreamed of tall grasses and wolves.

“No other emissary would be as comfortable around the Bogü,” he continued. “Would be able to understand and identify what the kaghan needs to remain in power. So there is no one else I can send, Li-Mei.”

There are many, she knows, who would balk at the idea of having a woman (even an Empress) act as emissary to the Bogü. Many who remember how Taizu was brought down through the actions of Wen Jian, the Precious Consort. She saw in Shinzu’s face that he was aware of these difficulties, and either had a plan to address them -- or considered this matter too important to let such considerations hold him back.

But there was no thought in her mind of refusing, as she looked at him. He knew that. Knew that she would jump at the chance to see Meshag again. She wonders, again, how he feels at having married a woman whose heart belongs elsewhere. She has never asked. Perhaps she never will.

“When must I leave?”

Shinzu slumped a little, the weight of a decision made. “As soon as your escort arrives.” He pulled a folded parchment from his pocket and handed it to her. “This document authorizes you to speak and negotiate in my name. I will abide by whatever agreement you make with the Bogü.”

“What … what should I be agreeing to?” Ambassadors typically have guidelines from the Emperor, don’t they? Lines that Kitai will not cross, will not bend on?

“The kaghan will likely make demands. Weapons, supplies, food. Kitai cannot spare much, as you know. Bargain away as little as you can manage, but do not go so low that you anger him and make him walk away. Kitai needs this alliance.” He met her eyes. Smiled. “I trust your judgment.”

There is something about him that terrified her, in that instant. Not enough to make her stand and run screaming, but something deeper. A pit that she might fall into and never get out of. He trusts her judgment. She knew that, of course; he would not have chosen her for this journey otherwise. But there is something about his words, the way he looked at her…

Li-Mei pulled back from the pit. Returned his smile. “I will do my best to honor your trust.”

* * *

That is what she must focus on now. Acting in the Emperor’s name, for the benefit of all Kitai. It sounds like a line from a play, but she must set aside her confused emotions and do her duty. The Shen family is good at that. Her father, First Brother Liu, Second Brother Tai. All have done their duty by Kitai, in their own way. In their own time.

When they break for the midday meal, she spends a few moments grooming her Sardian’s rich red coat. Plum Blossom nuzzles at her when she finishes, perhaps showing affection, perhaps just looking for treats. Li-Mei laughs, produces the treats for her glorious horse, feels a moment of wonder that Plum Blossom is _hers_. It has been years, and she has never lost that sense of wonder.

Break finished, the group mounts up, continues riding through the tall grass. Li-Mei tries to keep her thoughts on duty. When that fails, she focuses on her surroundings, savoring all the things that she lacks in the palace, for she knows it is only a matter of time before she begins to yearn for her comforts. Back to duty when that fails.

Finally, the fires of the Bogü appear in front of them. Her escort falls in around her, their bodies a shield in case everyone is wrong about the kaghan. She could tell them that it is a waste of time, but it would also be a waste of breath on her part. She is Empress of Kitai. She comes as an equal to the kaghan. She tries not to feel nervous. Fails. Settles for appearing composed.

They come to a halt in front of the Bogü camp. A group of men wait there. The camp is both familiar and strange at the same time. She stayed in camps like this on her journey north, when she was still the future bride of the kaghan’s heir. But this is much larger, the tents much more ornate.

She dismounts. Recognizes the man at the head of the Bogü instantly. His face, his silhouette -- she would know them anywhere. Her heart starts to beat faster as she walks to him.

Protocol has been agreed upon. She gives him a half-bow, and he returns the gesture, his movements as stiff as she remembers. It is an effort, keeping herself composed, acting the part of the cool and distant Empress, when what she wants to do is take his hands in hers. And from the way his eyes widen, the small inhale when he lays eyes upon her face, the straightening of his back – she knows that he feels the same.

Hours later, she sits down in her yurt -- a luxury compared to her previous accommodations -- and takes several long moments just to breathe. She has a difficult decision to make. She has done her best not to think of _what might have been_ , the years that she has been married to Shinzu, because she knows that is no way to live a life. A life that she ultimately chose.

But seeing him again has brought all of that passion flooding back. The tenderness in his eyes, in his touch. She finds herself wanting to go to him. She could get away with it. The thought makes her head spin like too much wine. Li-Mei knows how to be soft and silent. She could go to him in the night and no one would be the wiser.

She thinks of Shinzu, her husband. He is expected to be the only man in her life, while she knows she is not the only woman in his. He is expected to have many wives, many concubines, as befits the glorious Emperor of Kitai. She shares his bed once per week, at most, even if he does seek her counsel more often than that. 

Li-Mei sighs and begins unpacking the rest of her packs, bringing out the formal clothes that she did not bother with during the trip north. They will be wrinkled, but that cannot be helped; she will do what she can before she puts them on.

In lifting out those clothes, in digging to the bottom of the pack, she finds a slip of paper. Curious, she brings it out, not having the slightest clue what it might be. Her eyes widen as she takes in the words. The familiar handwriting. A message from her husband the Emperor.

_Go to him._

Li-Mei had never, ever dreamed that he might do such a thing. Had never considered asking for his _permission_ , which he has so magnanimously given her. She is certain that Shinzu knows this, and the gesture nearly moves her to tears. She has not felt this emotional, this vulnerable, since the days of the rebellion.

She has enough presence of mind to burn the paper immediately, to wait for it to be nothing more than ashes before she leaves. She walks openly, at first, but as she gets closer to the kaghan’s tent, her steps slow, become deliberate. It gives her a thrill to sneak to him.

She darts inside Meshag’s tent quickly, and immediately holds her hands out in a gesture of peace. Meshag has a knife in his hands, his face hard, facing someone he thought was an intruder. His expression changes. The knife goes back in its sheath.

“You are here.” His familiar voice says the words like they contain all the wonder in the world.

Li-Mei turns, reaches a hand out. Touches that face that has haunted her dreams. As he had all those years ago, his eyes close. She sees him let his guard down, and she is undone, any lingering doubts gone as she leans in to kiss him.

It is as though no time has passed at all, and yet … the person she was back then would never have dared to try and claim more than a single kiss from him. She let him walk away, and though she knows she could have made no other choice back then, she has constantly wondered what it would have been like if he had taken her with him. These were thoughts she was sure she would carry with her to the end of her days. So she kisses him now, a woman entirely sure of herself and what she wants, and she feels him yield to his emotions, as he had before.

A long time passes before he breaks the kiss. She is breathing heavily, and she is reasonably certain her hand accidentally brushed the beginnings of an erection. “Mei.” She sees him swallow. “Are you … sure?”

She stares at him for a long moment, trying to find the words. _There is nothing I have wanted more in the time since I last saw you. I am tired of living with regrets._ Her throat will not work. She lays a hand on his chest. “Meshag.” It comes out a whisper, a breath.

He kisses her. This time, _he_ kisses _her_. She can feel the same yearning within him. The thought of _what might have been_. If the world had not been wreathed in chaos when she returned to Kitai. If Tai had not risen to such a place of importance. If she was not who she was and he was not who he is.

His hands are clumsy, unpracticed, but she helps him. Guides them to where they need to be. Runs her own across his body, feeling the scars, the twists of his limbs. She cannot escape the thought that he views himself as unworthy, even still.

Li-Mei does her utmost to prove him wrong. She shows him her gratitude, tells him how he has stayed in her mind. He shows her his wonder that she views him as worthy of her affections. That she kissed him even after all this time. Their bodies say these things, convey them in ways that words never could.

They do not speak of anything of consequence that night. They are too busy building memories to last them a lifetime. He permits her to explore his body, though she desists when his need becomes too great. Takes him into her, holds him against her with all her strength. As though that one gesture could somehow keep him in her life, this time. As though they were living in those different lives that they had both dreamed of.

When she would have simply curled up next to him and gone to sleep, he shakes her awake. “You must go back. So they do not know.”

He is right, of course, and so she dresses, steals another glorious kiss from his lips, before she goes out into the cold night once more, returning to her own bed. To sleep alone, but warm from within and without.

The next night, he comes to her yurt, after a day of both of them pretending that there was nothing between them. They do not talk until afterwards, when their bodies lie on her bedroll, limbs entwined. She tells him of Tai, first; of the life that he and Song have built for themselves. His mouth crinkles, his eyes light up, when she tells him about the Heavenly Horses. “I noticed you came on one,” he says. “Thought it might have been from -- your husband.” The words are hard for him to say.

Li-Mei catches his face in her hands when he starts to turn away. “He knows,” she says, her voice low and earnest. She tells him about finding the note. Realizing what it meant. She can tell it makes him uneasy, but, like her, knows what a gift it is and has decided not to question it. She kisses him, to chase away the last of his doubts, and that stops all talk for a second time.

The third night, he tells her about his life as kaghan. His people are more accepting than she had thought they might be, and she realizes that his life was only in danger so long as his brother was alive. With Tarduk’s death, his bond to the wolf pack leader was broken. It helps that he has been a good kaghan. She can tell that from the way the Bogü talk about him, how they treat him. She is grateful that she has been sent to strengthen Meshag’s rule.

And she can tell that he is happy, too. That he finds purpose and joy in the role of kaghan, in leading his people. It is not unlike how she feels as Empress, in being able to change the lives of ordinary Kitans for the better. She tells him that, and sees his face light up. “You understand,” he says, hand reaching forward to brush her cheek. “You have always understood.”

Li-Mei finds that trait precious, as well, and is more than glad to show him what it means to her.

In the morning, she thinks about dragging out the negotiations to get more time with Meshag. But things have been going very well. Having the talks stall now would be suspicious.

There is another factor that Li-Mei is forced to consider. The rapport between herself and Meshag is becoming more and more obvious, the more time they spend together. Shinzu might have given her permission, but she and Meshag both know the potential problems that could come if it was known that the Empress of Kitai had taken the Bogü kaghan as a lover.

They discuss it that night. As has become their custom. “I wish I could stay,” she says, pressing her head against his bare chest.

“You cannot.” Meshag’s voice is rougher than usual. “We both have our duties.” He traces her chin with a finger. “And I do not think you would be happy here. With the Bogü.”

She is forced to admit the truth of this. It is part of why she never rode north, after things settled down in Kitai. Why she went to Shinzu instead. She has come to treasure her time under the open skies, on the back of her magnificent Sardian. She is already tiring of sleeping on a hard bedroll instead of a soft mattress. She wants a bath. Clean clothes.

“You must think I am spoiled by comforts.”

Meshag shakes his head. “No. I know this is a hard life. Not for everyone. I care for you too much. I could not stand to see you miserable, out here. On the steppes.”

Li-Mei runs a hand along his back. “I thought that … our lives might be different enough now.”

“No. Not enough.” Meshag presses his head against her shoulder, as though hiding from the truth will make it go away. A sentiment she finds herself in agreement with.

“At least they were different enough to bring us together again.”

“Yes.” Meshag lifts his head and looks into her eyes. “I am grateful that you came to me, Li-Mei.”

“So am I.” She kisses him, and they are done with words for the evening.

* * *

Shinzu comes to her the day after she returns from the Bogü. Sits next to her on the couch, as he usually does. She takes his hand, looks into his eyes. “Why?”

He understands. He has always understood. “If things were different -- if I were not Emperor -- I might choose you above all others, Li-Mei. Would stand before witnesses and under nine heavens swear to be loyal and true to you. But that is not the world we live in. That is not the person I am.” He takes a deep breath. “And so it seemed … fair … to ease the worries I knew you would have when you thought about seeking his bed. I want you to be happy.”

And she understands the thing that she has been trying to deny for what feels like an eternity. She loves Shinzu. And that does not in any way diminish her love for Meshag. The days and nights she has just shared with him.

It seems like the greatest gift she could have ever been given. The love and understanding of two men, who each share a different part of her life. Who each hold her heart. Who each know about the other.

“There might be other times,” he says, still slowly, “that it is necessary to send an emissary to the Bogü. You are still the best choice.”

She takes a moment to wrestle with something inside her. “When I am here,” she finally says, “when I am with you, I am … yours.”

Shinzu squeezes her hand tighter, lifts his other hand up to caress her cheek. “I do not ask for anything more.”


End file.
